


All in the Family

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adrien Agreste is our emotional support Chat, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Childbirth, Dad!Luka, Domestic Fluff, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Family, For medical stuff in Ch 3, Lukanette, Mature rating is for Ch 3, Mominette, Uncle Adrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: A series of connected one-shots on Lukanette parenthood. Prepared, yet totally unprepared. Happy, yet exhausted. Struggling, but together.A little angst and a lot of domestic fluff featuring Dad!Luka, Mominette, and Uncle Adrien.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 29
Kudos: 382





	1. No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Ch 1 "No Place Like Home" comes chronologically last but I wrote it first (return readers - hello you beautiful people!! - will recognize it as Ch 4 of my one shot collection All That Remains) and it provides context for the other chapters. Hopefully putting them in this order will be more enlightening than confusing, but if you prefer to read them in chronological order, you can start at Ch 2 and come back to Ch 1 at the end.
> 
> I'm posting all 4 completed chapters now, so if you got here early, be sure to check for the rest!

“Welcome home, Luka. Sass.”

“Hey Tikki,” Luka patted the little red kwami as she flew up to him. “Everything go okay while we were gone?” He shut the door and locked it behind him. It felt like he dropped more than the weight of his bags as they fell to the floor. 

“No major problems,” Tikki reported. 

“I wissssh to check on the hatchling,” Sass said, slipping out of Luka’s jacket. He flitted down the hall and phased through the door to the baby’s room.

Luka chuckled and went to the fridge, getting out the plate that he knew would be in there for Sass. He warmed it up in the microwave and left it out on the counter. 

“How was your gig?” Tikki asked.

Luka grabbed two cookies out of the jar on the counter and handed one to Tikki. “It was cool, but honestly, the whole time I just wanted to come home.” 

Tikki giggled. “That’s normal. It will get better, I promise.” She floated after him as he wandered into the living room, and giggled again as he sighed at the sight of the pair feet sticking up over the arm of his couch.

“He didn’t like them being alone while you were gone,” Tikki whispered, perching on Luka’s shoulder. “He slept here every night. Marinette kicked him out earlier since you were coming home tonight, but he just came back through the window.”

Luka rolled his eyes, and then walked over and slapped the designer shoes off the arm of his couch. “Rise and shine, Agreste.”

The blond sprawled on the couch started and rolled off, dumping the black cat kwami that had been sleeping on his face on the floor. He came up in a battle-ready couch, and then relaxed, dropping to his knees. “Hey, Luka,” he greeted, rubbing his eyes. “How was the gig?”

“Fine,” Luka told him. “But I’m home now, so why don’t you go sleep in your own bed.”

“I’m fine, I don’t mind the couch.”

Luka rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Adrien, you know we love you, but I haven’t seen my wife in three days. If you’re still here in the morning I guarantee you’re going to hear some things you wish you hadn’t.”

Adrien made a face, getting to his feet. “Gross, Couffaine.”

“Facts of life, man. Baby girl in there wasn’t dropped off by the stork.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Adrien stood, stretching. “Fine, I’ll go.” He reached down and scooped up Plagg, who’d continued to sleep despite being dumped on the floor. “Wake up, fur face, we’re going home.” 

Plagg just groaned. “Whatever, just hurry up so I can go back to sleep.” He perked up slightly as Sass glided past. “All good with the princess?”

“Yessss, shhhe isss ssssleeping well.” 

“She was fussy the first night you were gone,” Adrien said, getting to his feet. “But she seemed to settle after that.” He suited up and went for the window. 

“Hey,” Luka said, just before Chat leapt, “Thanks for keeping an eye on my girls.”

Chat grinned back at him and hopped out of the window with his trademark two-fingered salute. 

Luka sighed. Adrien’s frequent presence in their life was one of the few points of contention between Luka and Marinette. Not because he disliked the model or had any doubt about his wife’s affection or fidelity, but because he knew Adrien desperately wanted what Luka and Marinette had together, and Luka was of the opinion that he would never get it if Marinette didn’t set some boundaries. 

He’d accepted the inevitability of the black cat’s presence in their lives as soon as he’d learned his fiancé was Ladybug. Though their choices had led them away from a romantic relationship, everyone knew that the cat and the bug were soulmates. Luka could no more keep them apart than he could tear Marinette’s soul in two. 

But for someone who longed for a family the way Adrien did, it was sad to see him settle for this existence on the periphery of theirs. He deserved someone who could love him wholly and completely, as Luka did Marinette. He deserved to be a father, not just an adopted uncle. He deserved real happiness, and neither he nor Marinette would have it until their relationship was equal again. 

And for that to happen, Adrien needed to get out of their damn house and go meet some women. Or men. Somebody. _ Anybody. _ Luka shook his head and turned away from the window.

Luka felt Tikki land on his shoulder and pat his cheek. “I really do think he’s getting better. Plagg said he’s been going out more. He was just worried while you were gone. Do you want me to wake up Marinette?”

Luka had learned the hard way that one did not just slip into bed and snuggle up to a sleeping Ladybug. Now when he came home late, Tikki would rouse Marinette before he came to bed. Tikki was much harder to hit than Luka if Marinette woke up swinging. 

There were a lot of weird things you got used to when you were married to a superhero who’d spent the majority of her teenage years fighting villains on a weekly basis. 

“Not yet,” he told the little kwami. “I need to shower first. I feel gross and she hates when I come to bed smelling like the clubs.”

Tikki giggled. “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.” She flew back to her favorite cushion and settled down.

The kwamis weren’t technically banned from the bedroom, but they both respected their chosens’ desire for this one part of the home to remain private. Luka didn’t try to keep quiet as he crossed to the bathroom; Marinette would sleep like a rock as long as all the sounds he made were normal. He spared a fond look back at his wife in the light coming through the bathroom door. She was sprawled crookedly on the bed, hugging (and probably drooling on) his pillow. She’d been so exhausted since the baby came. It was nice to see her getting some real sleep.

He left the bathroom in much better spirits, clean and surrounded by the scents of home. He called Tikki and she came in to light on Marinette’s cheek, patting softly. Luka watched with mild amusement as Tikki’s approach became progressively less gentle, until finally Marinette flailed, and then grumbled and settled back on the bed. 

That was his cue. “Thanks Tikki,” he waved at the little red kwami as she flitted past him out of the room, and finally climbed into bed beside his wife. “Hi babe,” he murmured as he slid his arms around her, enjoying the way she shivered at his voice so close. It felt so good to nuzzle into her hair and wrap himself around her.

“Welcome home,” she said sleepily, and then hummed as he kissed her cheek and behind her ear. 

“I missed you,” he sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be taking another gig away from home anytime soon.” 

“Lukaaa,” Marinette whined, cuddling back against him. “We promised that having a family wouldn’t keep you from chasing your dreams.”

“It’s not. It just turns out my dreams are all right here.” He knew she was tired, but he gave into temptation just a bit, and pressed his mouth to her neck, running his tongue lightly over her pulse. “We can talk about it later,” he promised. “Go back to sleep.” 

She reached back to elbow him. “Don’t start something you aren’t going to finish, snake boy.”

Luka bit his lip to keep in a suggestive response. “Love you babe.”

“Love you more,” she mumbled.


	2. Hi Hi Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nervous parents-to-be wait for their ultrasound appointment.

“Luka,” Marinette sighed, exasperated. “You’re hovering.”

“I’m not,” Luka insisted. 

“You are.”

He didn’t say anything, but the stubbornness in his normally easygoing expression was easy to see. 

“Let me put it less diplomatically.” Marinette leaned toward him. “Luka, you’re overcompensating.”

That got his attention. He stared at her, mouth working soundlessly.

“You’re not your dad, Luka,” she said gently. “And you can take a five minute pee break without me thinking you are.”

“This is important,” Luka insisted. “I want to be here.” 

“You are here,” Marinette pointed out. “Here, with me, in the waiting room, where we will be for who knows how long. Do you really think I’d let you miss it? You don’t have to be glued to my hand.”

Luka let go quickly and put his own hands on his knees. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Marinette sighed, reaching to take his hand again. “I just mean, this has to be as boring for you as it is for me—more, probably,” she amended, gesturing to the sketchbook in her lap, and then at his empty hands. “You can walk around if you need to. Or go to the bathroom,” she said, looking pointedly at his bouncing knee.

“ _ You’re _ not allowed to go to the bathroom,” he pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Marinette said grimly. “That doesn’t mean you have to suffer with me. There’ll be plenty of time for shared suffering later. I’d rather have you in top form.” 

“But—”

“Luka,” Marinette said firmly. “Go to the bathroom. I promise I won’t let them start the scan without you.”

“Fine,” Luka huffed, but only because he really did have to go. 

When he got back, Marinette wasn’t in the waiting room. Luka shot a panicked look at the receptionist, who stood with an amused expression and gestured for him to follow.

Luka breathed a sigh of relief when she let him into a dark room where Marinette was just climbing on the bed. 

“See?” Marinette smiled at him, hiking up her shirt over her still small but very visible belly. “You made it in plenty of time. And no offense but if I had known kicking you out of the waiting room would have gotten the ball rolling I’d have done it sooner.”

Luka slid into the chair next to her and twined her fingers with his. He barely listened to the ultrasound technician giving Marinette instructions, his eyes darting to the screen mounted on the wall opposite the bed. He sucked in a breath as the technician set the probe on Marinette and glided it into place—and an image appeared on the screen. 

“Aww, baby’s waving,” giggled the tech. “See, this is the head—” Luka turned his face quickly to look at where she was pointing on the screen of the machine, “And here’s a hand sticking up over here.”

Luka looked back at the bigger screen, and sure enough he could see the small hand wiggling erratically back and forth. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Marinette’s fingers tightened almost painfully around his. 

Luka kept staring as the technician took various measurements that meant absolutely nothing to him, and then moved the probe around. 

“All right, let’s see what we can see,” the tech murmured. “There’s baby’s legs, and here we go,” the technician smiled. “It’s a girl.”

Marinette squealed, shaking Luka’s hand back and forth. He could feel an idiotic smile spreading over his face and he didn’t care one bit. He grabbed Marinette around the shoulders in a tight hug, laughing. “It’s a girl,” he breathed. 

Marinette giggled. “Guess you win the bet.” She got out her phone and started texting the numerous people who were waiting at home to hear the news. 

Luka shrugged, the stupid grin still plastered over his face. “With my track record, honestly, I was absolutely expecting a girl. Ninety-nine percent of my family are women and the remaining one percent is your dad. And Adrien, I suppose he counts.”

Marinette tried to stifle her laugh so the tech could finish taking measurements. “I guess that’s true. Were you hoping for a little company?” 

Luka shook his head. “I would have been happy either way, truly, but...is it weird that I feel better prepared to raise a girl than a boy?”

“After what you’ve said, not at all.” 

“I’ll just have to learn to live with being surrounded by amazing women,” Luka sighed. “Oh wait, I already have.” He grinned at Marinette and brought their joined hands up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Score one for me.”

Marinette made a face at him and they both giggled, and then Luka turned his attention back to the screen, tuning out the technician again and just watching his daughter—his  _ daughter _ —squirm and wiggle on the grainy screen.

“I can’t wait to meet you, baby girl,” he murmured, not even realizing he had spoken aloud until he felt Marinette squeeze his hand. 

“Oh dear.” Marinette began to giggle. 

“What?” Luka asked, without looking away from the screen.

“It seems like Adrien was waiting for our text at the store.” Still giggling, she handed Luka the phone. 

Luka tore his eyes from the screen to see the picture Adrien had sent, and raised his eyebrows. “That’s...a lot of pink.”

“I like pink!” Marinette snatched the phone back.

“I’m sure that’s what was on his mind,” Luka chuckled, turning back to the screen and pulling his own phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna sic Juleka on him.”

“Don’t you dare,” Marinette exclaimed.

“Too late!” Luka waved the phone at her, grinning. “Let the pink versus purple war begin.”

“Rose will be on my side,” Marinette pointed out.

“Undoubtedly,” Luka agreed, leaning on his elbow as he stared up at the screen. “And while you’re all arguing about it, I’ll be painting her room blue.”


	3. Not Like We Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t how they planned it. And oh, did they plan. Because his wife is Marinette and Marinette is Ladybug and Ladybug always has a plan. 
> 
> But that was before the phone call and the what do you mean you’re bleeding and no no no it’s too early this can’t be happening now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW hospitals, operating room, mention of a needle, surgery, childbirth, C-section, NICU. Nothing graphic as to actual body stuff, but the whole thing does kinda take place in a hospital and there will be hospitally things, so if that freaks you out, be prepared to click away.

This isn’t how they planned it. And oh, did they plan. Because his wife is Marinette and Marinette is Ladybug and Ladybug always has a plan. 

But that was before the phone call and the what do you mean you’re bleeding and no no no it’s too early this can’t be happening now. 

Luka can hear her suppress the panic for his sake as she reminds them that it’s only four weeks early, they’ve passed the real danger zone and everything will probably ( _ probably _ ) be fine. He quickly puts a lid on his freak out (he is supposed to be her safe place, not yet another person she has to pretend for) and tells her as steadily as he can that he’ll meet her at the hospital, and no, he’s not waiting until she gets through triage, he doesn’t care if it might be nothing, it might be something and he wants to be there. 

He gets to the hospital in less time than it takes to jump through all the hospital’s hoops to verify that he is who he says he is and that Marinette signed all the right forms to let them tell him that yes, she is here, and where to go.

Finally he peeks cautiously into the right room. 

“Luka,” Marinette says, relieved as she reaches for him.

“I’m here,” he says, catching her hand in his own. This is a song they’ve sung a thousand times, a dance they know by heart. She calls, and he responds. They’ve done it over and over again, since the first time she let herself fall apart in his arms, when she’s worn to pieces, when she’s lonely, when she has nightmares. 

When she’s scared.

They’re both scared now. They sit in anxious silence as a stream of people who are paid to be calm and reassuring come and go, until the doctor comes in with a grave face and the proverbial good news, bad news.

The good news is, their baby is fine—for now.

The bad news is, she won’t be if they don’t act now. Marinette and Luka exchange one stricken look and agree to everything the doctor recommends.

They had a plan and it didn’t include any of this. They make her take off her earrings. She and Tikki exchange a stricken look, but there’s nothing to be done. Luka quickly wraps them into a tissue so they won’t poke, and tucks them in his pocket with Sass. The blanket Marinette made herself for this moment is not allowed in the sterile operating room. She’s got on an awful hospital gown instead of the labor dress she planned and slaved over with such care. Luka is wearing a stiff paper suit over his clothes and a surgical cap over his blue hair and a surgical mask across his mouth that makes him feel like he can’t breathe, and the whole outfit is hot as hell. Her mother is not here. There is no soothing music. There is no counting or breathing or walking it out or any of the things they practiced. There’s no cursing and crushed fingers and no powering through. They are helpless. There is only a white room and a table shaped like a cross (seriously, what the  _ hell _ ), wires and IVs and a needle in her spine that takes away the pain but not the fear.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, Luka accepts this unwanted reality, takes a deep breath, and lets go of the plan. Marinette is a creature of order and detail, but Luka was born and raised in chaos. He can do this. Marinette needs him to. 

So he sits on a stool by Marinette’s head, strokes her forehead below her own surgical cap and speaks soothingly to her as tears leak out of her terrified eyes. She’s out of control here and she hates it, he knows. “Luka,” she whispers desperately. 

“I’m here,” he promises, covering her hand that they’ve strapped to the table, careful not to dislodge the oxygen monitor on her finger. “We’re gonna be okay. Just a few more minutes and we’ll meet our little girl. It doesn’t matter how she got here. All that matters is that she’s coming and she’s gonna be okay.”

The doctors are formal and preoccupied but the nurses are sympathetic. Neither of them can see past the curtain erected below Marinette’s chest, but at Luka’s quiet request the anesthesiologist at her head keeps her updated on what’s going on. Luka can’t do anything about the lack of control but at least she can know what’s happening. 

Here she comes,” murmurs the anesthesiologist soothingly. “One, two, three—and here she is.” 

Luka can’t resist standing up to see over the curtain, and his breath leaves him as he sees his child in the doctor’s hands. He doesn’t want to see anything else though so he sits down quickly, and a heartbeat later the nurse comes to show them the baby.

It’s only a quick glimpse and then Luka has to leave Marinette for a moment, to cross the room and cut the cord and marvel at the impossibly small number on the scale. His daughter (his  _ daughter _ ) is cleaned up and wrapped up and then she’s in his arms at last, and maybe the first thing she saw wasn’t his face and maybe the first thing she felt wasn’t his hands and maybe the first thing she heard wasn’t his guitar, meticulously composed and recorded and prepared and played on loop just for that moment when she entered the world...but she is beautiful, and she will have his hands and his voice and his love every day from now on.

The nurses allow him a quiet moment, and then he carries her carefully to Marinette. They take the restraints off Marinette so that she can touch and caress the tiny face, and Luka leans close so she can press a kiss in soft black hair. It’s one moment of peace before the chaos descends again, and the nurses gently insist that the tiny newborn must come to the NICU for tests and observation. 

Luka looks at Marinette, his face stone, but she presses her lips together and says, “Go with her.”

Luka kisses her and promises he will be back as soon as he can. It feels like his heart tears in two and he leaves half behind as he follows the nurses out of the room.

The NICU nurses that take over as soon as they cross the ward threshold are competent and caring but bossy in a manner that rubs Luka the wrong way. Part of him can appreciate their dedication and the need to protect their tiny charges, but that doesn’t stop the swell of righteousness indignation. A growl of “I’m her  _ father,”  _ passes his lips when the nurses suggest that he should leave the baby to them. She’s tiny in the plastic bin they’re calling a bassinet, with a pink sign above it that has two tiny ink footprints next to the name written in black marker: Couffaine, Erika, with her birth time and weight underneath it, and a space that reads “Mother: Couffaine, Marinette.” 

Luka stares at that little piece of pink cardstock, trying to take it all in. The nurses bring a bottle of formula and he feels another pang— _ this is not the way we planned it _ —before he insists on taking the bottle and feeding his daughter himself. 

God, his  _ daughter. _

The nurses object but seat him in a chair next to the bassinet and allow him to give her the bottle (he is her father and they can’t stop him). He is heavily supervised, which annoys him, but Luka genuinely doesn’t want to screw this up, so he listens to their advice. He outright refuses to put Erika down afterwards, instead holding her close to his chest and singing softly to her, the same songs he sang every night with his head as close to Marinette’s belly as she would let him get. He remembers their childbirth classes and puts her down long enough to strip off his shirt. Then he picks her up, unwraps her from the blanket, and cradles her against his chest again, skin to skin. Marinette was supposed to do it, that was what they planned, but she can’t, so he will. Reduces stress, helps with heartbeat and breathing—Luka can’t even remember half of what they said but he knows it’s important, it was important to Marinette too and she would want him to do this, even if the nurses are giving him weird looks and some of the other parents glance wide-eyed at the shirtless man with the snake tattoos holding a tiny baby in the middle of the NICU. 

An older lady in a volunteer uniform approaches him and he eyes her warily until she taps his shoulder, motions for him to lean forward, and puts a warmed blanket around his shoulders. Luka thanks her. She pats him approvingly, and says something he doesn’t understand but does appreciate before shuffling on.

Luka has time to notice the other babies, many even smaller than Erika, in their own little plastic bassinets, and he takes a moment to be grateful that though she seems tiny to him, she is strong and healthy. Sass sneaks up from his pocket under the blanket to peep at the baby. He gives Luka a fanged smile and makes himself scarce again. There are two many people here to take risks.

Only when Luka gets a text from Juleka letting him know that she has arrived does he reluctantly put little Erika back in the bassinet. She looks small and cold in nothing but her striped cap and impossibly tiny diaper, wires on her chest and wrapped around her foot, a tiny cannula in her nose. The NICU is warm and Luka knows the little bed is heated and she is totally fine, but he hates it. There is  _ tape _ on his baby holding everything in place and Luka doesn’t care if it’s special baby tape or whatever, he  _ hates _ it. This is  _ not _ the way they planned it.

But it’s the way it is. He breathes away the frustration. He doesn’t know how to swaddle her (they have a book, but it’s at home) and the nosy nurses have left him for the moment, but he tucks the blanket around her as best he can. Luka glances up at her pulse and oxygen levels on the screen. The numbers themselves mean nothing to him, but they are green so he thinks that means she’s all right. He puts his shirt back on and goes to the ward entrance to fetch his sister.

The nurses object again when he wants to bring Juleka in, but Luka is firm: Erika will have a family member with her at all times, and he needs to see his wife. She’s been alone in the recovery room all this time, without even Tikki, and he has her phone in his pocket so she can’t even check on anything. Luka knows what her state of mind must be.

He tries to keep in mind that they mean well, that they have tiny, delicate patients to care for, and so he manages to stay mostly polite as they urge him not to ‘bother’ the baby with a constant rotation of relatives. 

They compromise; Juleka stays, but won’t pick up Erika or disturb her sleep until her next feeding. Someone escorts Luka to Marinette. It scares him when he sees her; she is pale and shivering uncontrollably. “Luka,” she whispers.

“I’m here,” he says immediately, moving to her side and taking her hand. It feels like ice in his. “She’s cold,” he says, looking at the nurse. 

The nurse tending to her brings another heated blanket, but tells him this is normal and the shaking is a side effect of the spinal block. Marinette will be fine. 

Luka presses Marinette’s fingers to his lips and gives back her phone. “The baby?” she asks.

“She’s fine, sweetheart, she’s doing really well,” he told her. “They have her on oxygen and they said something about her blood sugar, but they said she should only have to stay in the NICU a day or two, and then if she’s doing okay she can come stay in the room with us.” He pulls out his phone as he speaks, showing her the thirty or so pictures he’s already managed to take. “Jules is with her now and your mom is on her way.”

“I want to see her,” Marinette said tearfully. “I’m her mother.” Her face crumples and Luka’s heart breaks. “This isn’t the way we planned it.”

“I know,” Luka says, kissing her forehead. “I know it’s not, but you’re okay and she’s okay and that’s what matters. We’re gonna get through the next couple of days while you heal up a bit and they make sure she’s stable, and then we’ll go home and it’ll be fine. We’ll do everything the same way we would have if the plan had gone off without a hitch. We’ll be okay. We can be flexible.” He winks. “Some of us, anyway.”

Marinette huffs a laugh and then winces. Luka squeezes her hand and pulls her earrings from his pocket. She visibly relaxes once they are back in her ears and Tikki zips to cover under her blankets. Luka sits down to wait with her. When her two hours in recovery are finally up, they put her in a wheelchair and push her straight to the NICU. Juleka looks up and smiles and immediately surrenders both the bottle and now-swaddled baby to Marinette. They’re politely reminded that no more than two visitors at a time are permitted in the NICU, and Luka sends Jules down to the lobby to bring Sabine up to what will be Marinette’s room. Sabine has stopped to pick up all the things Marinette either forgot or couldn’t carry in the rush to the hospital, and Luka knows that by the time Marinette gets to her hospital room, Sabine will have her blanket on the bed and her gown laid out, and the little baby caps Marinette knitted set out for use. Just like they planned. 

As he watches Marinette whisper and smile and kiss their little girl, the tension leaves his shoulders, and he knows that everything will be okay. He believes what he told Marinette earlier. Maybe it didn’t happen the way they planned, but it doesn’t matter. Later they will probably laugh and call Erika a true Couffaine for coming into the world in chaos instead of by the book. For now, they have each other and Erika and a horde of loved ones ready to descend on them at a moment’s notice. Marinette will heal and Erika will grow and Luka will never stop loving either of them.

“Luka,” Marinette breathes, looking up at him with a beaming smile as she cuddles their daughter close.

Her hands are full so Luka reaches out and lays his hand on Erika’s soft black hair instead. “I’m here.”


	4. Uncle Adrien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Adrien finally gets to meet little Erika.

Luka jolted awake from his doze on the couch at a knock on the door. He dragged himself up and went to answer it, glancing at his phone on the way. The message he saw explained the knock at the door and Luka opened it with a grin. “Hey, you’re back early.” 

“Not as early as I wanted to be,” grumbled Adrien. The two men exchanged a backslapping hug. “I can’t believe she came while I was out of town, and then there were a bunch of things I couldn’t get out of, or I’d have flown back the same day. Where are they?”

“Both asleep at the moment,” Luka replied, smiling sympathetically at Adrien’s disappointment. “Sorry.”

“Figures,” Adrien sighed, opening his coat to let Plagg fly out. The little kwami made a beeline for the kitchen. “Remind me to give you cheese money before I go,” Adrien said dryly, watching Tikki and Sass float over to join Plagg. “How’s Marinette?”

Luka grimaced. “Not great? As well as can be expected, I suppose. Tikki’s helping the wound heal but Marinette’s totally exhausted. Since the baby’s so small the doctor wants us feeding her every three or four hours and it’s murder on Marinette. At least her milk has come in so she’s not having to pump as often, but it’s been a strain.”

“Pump?” Adrien frowns. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“You really don’t,” Luka agreed. It was about the least dignified process he could imagine. Best for everyone if Adrien kept his naivete for now. 

“Well, I know you’re going to yell at me,” Adrien said, lifting a bag at his side. “But I brought Erika a present. I couldn’t resist when I saw it.”

Luka took the bag and peeked into it. “Books? Pete the Cat Boxed Set,” he read, and then gave Adrien a deadpan look. “Really.”

“What?” Adrien said innocently. 

“It’s a cat.”

“He’s a groovy cat that plays guitar!” Adrien corrected, bouncing a little in excitement. “It’s perfect!”

Luka turned the box over to get to the book spines and pulled one out. “Huh.”

Adrien sensed weakness. “If you were a cat, you would be Pete!”

Luka glanced up from the book he was pacing through. “I am not a cat,” he pointed out mildly, and Sass and Plagg managed to snort in harmony from the kitchen. “And I have never in my life used the word  _ groovy _ outside of a joke.”

Adrien’s face fell a little. “They’re funny,” he insisted, sounding a little hurt.

“They are that,” Luka chuckled, looking at the brightly colored illustrations before closing the book. “Relax, Adrien, Erika might not be able to fully appreciate them for a couple years but Marinette will love them. But you’ve really got to stop buying us things, this apartment isn’t big enough to store four years’ worth of toys and books.”

Adrien rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I know. I just—I wish I could do more, you know?” 

Luka squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, you know we appreciate your generosity and your enthusiasm. Just try to spread it out a bit, that’s all.” He grinned, waving the book. “Just keep walking along and singing your song. Because it’s all good.”

Adrien grinned. “I knew you’d love them!”

“That part was okay, I’ll admit,” Luka sighed. “Anyway honestly if you really want to help, I’m sure we’re going to need it. After the scare we had, Marinette’s incredibly anxious, and I know how much she trusts you. You might be the only person she’d be willing to trust to help outside of her mom.” He sighed. “She already ran Juleka off once, which is a shitstorm I’m not looking forward to dealing with later, but she’s—” He glanced down the hallway nervously and lowered his voice. “She’s not exactly at her most reasonable at the moment.”

“Hey, whatever you need,” Adrien promised. “I’ll sleep on the couch if it would help.”

Before Luka could answer, a sharp cry echoed down the hallway. “Shit,” Luka muttered, jogging toward the bedroom, Tikki and Sass on his heels. He popped inside and scooped Erika out of the bassinet. “I got her,” he murmured to Marinette, who was already stirring. “Go back to sleep, babe, I’ll take care of it.”

Marinette mumbled something that he suspected translated as  _ call me if you need me, _ started to roll over, and then groaned and rolled back onto her back. Tikki hovered over her, patting her hair lightly as Luka shut the door.

Luka brought the fussing baby out to the living room, aware of the way Adrien lit up as soon as they came into sight. “Let me get her settled and then you can say hello,” Luka said softly, taking Erika over to the spare changing station they had set up in a corner of the living room. Luka changed her diaper, a little self-conscious as he was still new at this and he knew he was clumsy, but he chuckled when he realized Adrien had turned away. Luka re-swaddled her (it took a couple of tries but he was getting better). Clean and cozy, Erika settled down quickly. 

The second he turned away from the changing area, Adrien was there, practically at his elbow, cooing as Erika’s squinty eyes turned in his direction, though she probably couldn’t see him. “She’s so—” he hesitated, and Luka chuckled. 

“She’s a little funny looking, I know. It’s a newborn thing.”

“She's cute though!” Adrien said quickly. 

“Of course she is,” Luka nuzzled her briefly, and then looked at Adrien. “You want to hold her?”

Adrien’s eyes went huge. “Can I?”

Luka rolled his eyes. “You’re family, and I know you’ve had all your shots, of course you can.”

Adrien reached eagerly for the baby but cringed as his hands neared her. “Oh God, she’s so tiny, I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“I’m right here,” Luka reminded him. “And you’re not much newer at this than I am. Sass has been laughing at me since we brought her home.”

“That isss an exaggeration,” Sass piped up from the kitchen.

“Sure it is,” Plagg snorted. 

“She’s made it this far, haven’t you, little bug?” Luka smiled at his daughter. “Okay, just take her under there and—wait, let me—” 

The transfer was a little awkward on both sides, but the look on Adrien’s face once he held the little bundle was worth it. Luka actually felt kind of guilty that Marinette was missing it, but she needed the sleep more. He snapped a quick picture to show her later and hoped she wouldn’t kill him for not getting her up. An alarm on his phone beeped and he silenced it quickly.

“I’m going to get her a bottle ready,” Luka said, stepping past Adrien. He barely dodged Plagg, who came zipping out of the kitchen right at that moment, Sass on his heels. Luka hesitated but decided to trust the kwamis—at least, he trusted Sass to make sure Plagg didn’t get up to too much mischief. 

Luka was concentrating so hard on remembering the steps to heat the milk that he lost all awareness of what was going on the living room until Erika began to cry. Luka darted back to the door but nothing seemed amiss except Adrien completely panicking as Erika wailed.

Adrien held her like she was a bomb. “Oh, shit, what do I do?”

Luka folded his arms to check the impulse to just take the baby. “Keep her close to you. Bounce her around gently, and make shushing noises. Yes, like that, but lean down close to her ear, you actually want to be really close—there you go. You can dance with her if you like, that’s what Marinette does. Just don’t let her head flop around while you move.” Luka couldn’t help the caution even though he could see that Adrien was holding her securely.

Adrien looked a little ridiculous, bouncing and swaying around the living room shushing the little infant, but Luka wasn’t about to comment considering the number of absolutely ridiculous things he’d done in the past week. Erika quieted, that was what mattered.

Luka’s eyes widened. The bottle! He turned back into the kitchen and checked it, and breathed a sigh of relief when it wasn’t too hot. He went back into the living room, bottle in hand, and seated Adrien on the couch, showing him how to hold the bottle. Plagg was curled up somewhere around the baby’s knees, purring. Luka took care  _ not _ to comment on how cute it was.

“Adrien!”

Both men looked up to find Marinette standing in the hallway, wrapped in a robe. Tikki gave him an apologetic look from Marinette’s shoulder. Luka went to Marinette immediately, got her shuffling toward a chair, and helped her sit down. “I was hoping you’d sleep longer,” he fretted, smoothing her hair back.

“I thought you might need help when she started crying again. You should have told me Adrien was here.” 

“Hey, Buginette,” Adrien grinned. “I got back as fast as I could. Sorry it wasn’t sooner.”

Marinette’s face crumpled and Luka cringed. “I can’t believe I missed you seeing her for the first time!”

“I’m sorry!” Luka groveled shamelessly. “I just really wanted you to sleep, you’ve been so exhausted with the feeding and the pumping and the nobody-but-mommy wails...I took pictures!” 

Marinette gave him a look of absolute adoration that made his insides melt a little. “Thank you.”

Luka breathed a silent sigh of relief, and then glared at Adrien, who was shaking with repressed mirth. Luka went behind the couch and leaned over the blond’s shoulder, reaching to adjust the way Adrien held the bottle as an excuse. “Laugh it up, jackass,” Luka muttered near Adrien’s ear. “Wait till you’re on the receiving end of one of her mood swings and you won’t be so quick to give me shit. You thought she was bad pregnant, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” He straightened up. “Adrien offered to crash on the couch if we needed help,” he announced.

“Oh, Adrien, that would be—but—you just got back into town, I couldn’t ask you too,” Marinette fretted. 

“Hey, if you need me, I totally will,” Adrien said, looking up at her.

“I mean...I don’t...I don’t  _ need _ you, really…” Marinette said weakly.

Adrien glanced at Luka, who gave a small nod. As far as he was concerned at the moment, anything Marinette wanted, Marinette got. If her partner’s proximity made her more comfortable, he wasn’t about to object, even if it chafed his ego a little bit.

“I’ll have to go home to unpack and repack, but I’ll be back tonight,” Adrien smiled, and Marinette relaxed. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.”

Luka picked up the books Adrien had brought and put them in her lap. “Cat boy here thinks he’s funny.”

Marinette took the books out and looked over them, biting her lip to control her smile. Luka handed her a throw pillow and she pressed it to her belly as she laughed, only wincing a little bit. “That’s perfect! A guitar-playing cat!”

“I thought so too,” Adrien said, shooting Luka a triumphant grin. Luka rolled his eyes and resigned himself to the word  _ groovy _ becoming far more prevalent in his life.

“Sit down, Dad,” Marinette said, looking at him affectionately. “I know you’re tired, too.” 

Luka did as she suggested, sinking down into the couch, which felt far more comfortable than it had a few months ago. He let his head fall back and sighed. He felt Sass come to his shoulder and pat his cheek, and smiled. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it, but he was glad Adrien was here too. Somehow he’d felt...vulnerable, with Marinette recovering from surgery and Erika so tiny and helpless. Knowing that there was someone else to help stand guard, someone who would give his life for either of Luka’s girls and die happy, made him feel just a little more at ease, drained the tension from his shoulders.

There was no more Hawkmoth and no more Mayura and there were no more akumas and there was no reason for him to feel the way he did. He felt it all the same. Marinette and Adrien may have borne the brunt of that fight, they may be the ones with nightmares, the ones who jump when someone shuts a door too loudly, but Luka had scars too, scars carved by failures witnessed and wiped out over and over again, and now with this precious little life in the balance, he’d take all the backup he could get and be grateful for it.

He still laughed when Erika spit up on Adrien’s designer suit, though.


	5. Not Quite Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas just doesn't feel like it should this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working my way through the MLHolidays2k19 prompts and this is where my brain went for Christmas Day. Sometimes Christmas is just hard.

It was...a long way from perfect. She hadn’t gotten more than a quarter of the decorations up. They had the tree and the stockings, but not much else. The presents were wrapped, but without the ribbons and bows and usual embellishments she normally loved to add. The pile was small and there were a distressing number of unfinished projects in her workroom that hadn’t made it under the tree at all. 

Luka always knew when it was starting to bother her. He would pass her with a soft touch and a gentle reminder like, “those aren’t the important things,” (which she hated, because they were important to her, and she cried and he never said it again), or “it’s been busy this year,” (which was at least true) or “we’ll get back there, just cut yourself some slack and give it a little time,” (which actually worked)

Adrien tried to help, but his enthusiasm was overwhelming, and he asked too many questions and nothing was quite the way she wanted it, and she tried to smile and tell him she appreciated it, and instead she cried and hurt his feelings and then Luka and the kwamis had to deal with them both being upset.

And now it was almost two in the morning on Christmas day and there was no more time. There was a premade Christmas dinner in the fridge from her parents that she hadn’t lifted a finger to make. There was only one pitiful string of lights on the balcony. Their apartment didn’t smell like cookies. Christmas songs didn’t sound the same when played at a quarter of their usual volume. Marinette didn’t have a new dress to wear and the thought of even getting dressed up just made her feel tired. Luka had painted her nails for her yesterday, red with lots of glitter just like she liked, but she had already chipped one. 

“Babe?” 

She looked up from her brooding stare into the lights of the Christmas tree. Luka stood at the entrance of the living room in his Christmas-themed pajama pants--the same ones from last year, because she hadn’t had time to make new ones. They were like everything else this Christmas--not awful, plenty good enough, just...not what she wanted. 

“You didn’t come back to bed,” Luka said softly, coming to sit beside her on the couch. The very cautiousness of his movements was just another thing that felt wrong. Any other Christmas, he would never have doubted that she wanted him near. “Do you want me to take her?”

“No,” Marinette sighed, because the small weight against her chest, the tiny breaths against her skin, were the only things that were exactly the way they were supposed to be this year. “I just didn’t feel like putting her down.” 

Luka sighed, searching her face. “I’m worried about you, babe.” He tentatively reached up and brushed her hair back. “You need to sleep. I know you’re exhausted.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Marinette whispered stubbornly, clinging to the baby. “I just want to sit here for a while.”

Luka sighed. “Okay. Can I sit with you?”

“You don’t have to. You should go back to sleep.”

“I want to,” he said, inching a little closer. “I want to be here for you, Marinette.”

“I know,” she said, feeling even lower. “It’s just…”

“Just what, babe?

“Sometimes I don’t want to need you so much,” she sighed. 

He took a deep, slow breath, like whatever his immediate reaction to that was, it wasn’t one he wanted to share, and he needed a moment to gather himself. “This is one of those times when it’s okay to need me,” he whispered, touching her arm ever so lightly. “I know, it’s hard, and you’re tired, and nothing is the way you want it to be, and there’s nothing Adrien and I or Tikki and Plagg and Sass can do to fix it. This is just where we are. It’s just a moment, Marinette, and maybe it feels like a heavy moment just now, but we’ll carry it together. All of us in this weird little family. It’s okay for you to need help. This…” He reached out and touched his daughter’s head gently, smoothing the fine little baby hairs. “This is a big deal, a big change, and it’s been the hardest on you. I’m sorry, babe, but you’re just going to have to let some things go for a little while. Including the idea that you have to do things the way you always do them.”

“I know that,” Marinette bit out, glaring at him.

“I know your brain knows it,” Luka gave a lopsided smile, “But your heart and your hormones kinda seem to be overriding that just now, so I gotta remind you.” 

Marinette made a face, but she let Luka scoot in close and take some of her weight on his chest.

“I know it’s not up to your standards,” Luka murmured, stroking the baby’s hair again with the lightest of touches. “But it’s still the best Christmas I’ve ever had, bar none.”

“Me too,” a third voice added softly, and they both looked up to see Adrien in the hall, blonde hair in disarray and also wearing last year’s Christmas pajamas. “Hi,” he said a little shyly, unsure of whether this was one of those family moments that he shouldn’t interrupt. "Merry Christmas." Marinette saw his eyes go nervously to Luka and felt Luka tip his head in invitation. Adrien relaxed and came to sit at her feet, laying his head on her knees. 

And there, with the warmth of her family pressing into her on all sides, with Luka’s arms around her and her little one’s weight on her chest, and Adrien’s presence, safe and out of his father’s reach, she finally began to relax. She sensed the tingle of kwami magic before she actually saw the three little beings drift sleepily into the room and join the cuddle pile, Plagg and Sass jockeying only a little for the warmest spots. 

Her eyes grew heavy and she felt Luka adjust as she sank more fully into him. He pressed a kiss into her temple, his own body going slack as the tension left him. 

“If you still feel like this next week,” Luka said carefully, “I think we should go see Dr. Wilder.”

Adrien nodded without picking his head up. 

Marinette sighed. “Okay.” She closed her eyes, and tried to let the perfect go. After all, even not quite perfect was still pretty good, even if the weight didn’t quite leave her mind and heart. 

“Just sleep,” Luka soothed, sensing the shift. “We’re all here, we’re all safe and together. Just rest, Marinette.”

She was asleep before he was done talking.


	6. Fear Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka doesn't have the best reaction to finding out about Marinette's pregnancy. He's happy, he is, he's just...scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronologically this would be the first in this series.

Adrien sighed, looking at the blue-haired man slumped on the bar. 

“Marinette is going to kill you,” Adrien observed, leaning on the bar beside his friend. “And I don’t want to be anywhere near the blast radius.” 

“S’not a crime to get drunk,” Luka mumbled.

“Yeah, you can let me know how that argument works out for you.” Adrien rolled his eyes. “Can you walk or am I going to have to drag your ass all the way home?”

Luka’s response was worthy of Juleka as he buried his face further in his arms, but Adrien assumed it was some version of “Fuck off, Agreste.” 

“No can do,” Adrien sighed, grabbing his arm and hauling him bodily off the stool. “You knew you were stuck with me when you married my favorite person.”

“I hate you so much,” Luka muttered as Adrien ducked under his arm. Adrien staggered as Luka let him take most of his weight, probably just to be petty. Adrien rolled his eyes, but steered them toward the door. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that he was using the limo that day. It was more conspicuous than was ideal, though at least it wasn’t the stretch, but it did mean Adrien didn’t have to drive. He dumped Luka in the backseat and made him buckle up before getting in the other side and signaling the driver to go.

“So you want to tell me why you felt the need to go get shitfaced in the middle of the week?” Adrien asked conversationally, only half expecting an answer. Luka could be awfully closed-mouthed when something was bothering him, even more so if the reason had something to do with Marinette. They both knew Adrien would be on Marinette’s side anyway.

Luka sighed, leaning his head to stare at the roof of the car. “M’nette’s pregnant.”

“Really?” Adrien lit up, and then frowned. “Wait, that’s a good thing right? You guys have been trying for a while.” 

“Eight months,” Luka agreed, closing his eyes. “We were ssssssso happy, and then M’nette went to work and it hit me that I’s gonna be a sad—dad—and I lost my fuckin’ mind.” His breath hitched. “Wha was I thinkin’, I can’t be a dad. My dad  _ sucked _ , ‘drien.”

Adrien snorted. “Yeah, join the club,” he muttered bitterly.

“Been a member longer’n you, asshole.”

“I think supervillain trumps seniority,” Adrien snorted. Luka rolled his head to give Adrien a stare through red-rimmed eyes.

“Yeah, so how qualified d’ _ you _ feel to be a dad, hmm? Not, like, theoretically, but if you knew it would happen ‘zactly thirty-four fuckin’ weeks from now.”

Adrien pondered that for a moment. “Shit,” he said, finally. 

Luka groaned and put his hands over his face. “Tell me there’s some scotch in this godawful monstrosity.” 

“Sorry,” Adrien said. “You’re cut off. Marinette will kill me if I let you die of alcohol poisoning.” He reached into the cooler set into the seat and pulled out a bottle of water. “Bottoms up,” he said, handing it to Luka. 

Luks snorted, fumbling with the cap. “Could drink you under the table, pretty boy.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Adrien retorted. “You know how easy it is to get wasted on champagne if you don’t work up a tolerance. Either way, I’m not giving you more booze.” He took the water back from Luka, twisted the cap off, and handed it back.

“Some friend,” Luka muttered, and then he drained half the bottle. He sighed. “How mad is she?”

“She was more worried than mad,” Adrien told him. 

“Shit.” Luka sighed. “That jus’ means she’ll be madder when she knows ‘m safe.”

“Probably,” Adrien agreed. “So you better sober up as much as you can before you get there.”

“Fuck, ‘m such a loser,” Luka groaned. “She’s gonna think I was lyin’ about bein’ happy.”

“You never lie to her,” Adrien said, feeling a bit more sympathy now that he knew what was going on. “And you weren’t, were you.”

“No,” Luka sighed, throwing his arm across his eyes. “No, I  _ was _ happy, just…” he sighed, and Adrien suspected he was crying beneath his arm. “Jus’ don’t wanna screw up. Don’ wanna lose everything jus’ cause I got shit genes and a crappy example.”

“Well,” Adrien said, putting his hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Your dad was never there and my dad wouldn’t leave me alone, so hopefully between the two of us we can figure out the right thing to do. You’re not in this alone, man, you’ve got Marinette and me, and Tom.”

“Fuck, Tom’s gonna kill me if he finds out,” Luka breathed. 

“He won’t. It’s not like you make a habit of this kind of thing, and you’ve got good reason to be scared. Maybe find a better way to deal next time, though. If you run off on Marinette every time you get scared—”

“I do not run off on Marinette,” Luka said, lifting his face, moving his arm, and speaking much too crisply for as drunk as he was. “Never. All in until the end, I swore.” He leaned his head back again. “How do you think she knew where to tell you to find me?” 

Adrien smiled. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, Luka. Except, you know, what Marinette’s going to do to you.”

Adrien declined his driver’s offer to help get Luka in the building with some regret, but he knew both Luka and Marinette would be happier if he did it himself. Luka was steadier when they walked in the building, and he wasn’t slurring quite so much, but Adrien still had to duck under his arm to keep him walking mostly straight.

“Wuss,” Luka muttered as they waited for the elevator.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “I’m not hauling your drunk ass up four flights of stairs.” He sighed. “Hey, Plagg, head on up and tell Marinette we’re on our way.” 

“No,” Luka moaned. “Sass, stop him, he’ll make it sound worse than it is.” There was no response from his pocket. Luka rolled his eyes. “He’s not speaking to me,” he grumbled. “Spilled beer on him.”

Adrien gave him a look. “You weren’t drinking beer, Luka.”

“The first one was a beer,” Luka sighed blearily. “Was just trying to relax a bit at first. Then I got scared and...and I didn’t want to be, so…” he shrugged. 

Adrien sighed. “You know beer makes you introspective. You should have expected that.”

“Yep.” Luka popped the p. “I’ve known I was gonna be a dad for less than twelve hours and I’ve already screwed up.”

“Dude,” Adrien sighed. “I’m making you an appointment with my therapist.”

Luka snorted. “Like I can afford your therapist. And don’t say dude, you sound ridiculous. You can barely pull off bro.”

“You won’t let me call you bro,” Adrien pointed out. “And shut up. I’m going to make you an appointment, and I’m going to pay for it, and you’re not going to give me any shit about it because this is too important to blow off. For the sake of Marinette and your baby.”

Luka drew in a sharp breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

“Okay,” Adrien repeated grimly, muscling him into the elevator.

“Fuck, what am I going to say to her,” Luka muttered, breath hitching again. 

“The truth. You’re scared and you screwed up and you’re going to get help. She may take her pound of flesh first but you know she’ll forgive you.” He paused. “Didn’t you guys talk about any of this before you decided to have kids?”

“Course we did,” Luka muttered. “I was worried but I wanted Marinette to be happy. Thought I could handle it.” He sighed heavily. “God I love her so much.”

“Yeah, we all know that,” Adrien said. The elevator dinged.

Luka tried to straighten himself, pulling away from Adrien. He’d face his wife on his own two feet. He did let Adrien take his keys and unlock the door, swaying slightly as the hall tilted to the left. 

Marinette opened the door with the keys still in it. “You’re home,” she sighed, with all the fervency of a prayer. God, he was the worst.

“Hi, babe,” Luka sighed. “Sorry.” He walked into the room and collapsed face-first on the couch. He hated this stage of drunk, where he was sober enough to know what an idiot he was and not sober enough to stop the room from randomly spinning or to be entirely sure his head was connected to his body.

“Ugh, you reek,” Marinette covered her mouth, turning green. “Oh my—” She retreated across the room, and Luka understood but it still made him feel a little bit abandoned. She looked at Adrien and they had one of those conversations without words that he hated. 

“Sorry, Mari, I draw the line at helping him shower.” Adrien raised his hands. That was a lie, Luka knew. Adrien would do literally anything if Marinette asked him to. 

“It’s fine, I can manage him,” Marinette sighed.

“No,” Luka called, unsmushing his face from the couch enough to be heard. “I can handle it myself. You’re not supposed to be lifting.” To stall any further argument, he got to his feet and staggered towards the bedroom, weaving but staying on his feet. His head was starting to feel connected to his body again.

While he got undressed, he filled the sink with water and set a small sliver of soap next to it. Sass finally emerged from hiding and immediately plunged into the water and began scrubbing himself vigorously. Luka turned on the shower and stepped in before it got warm. The cold water helped steady him a bit, though he still had to lean on the wall. “You okay, Sass?” he called. 

“I am fine,” the kwami answered, curtly but at least he was speaking.

“I’m really sorry,” Luka sighed, sticking his head under the spray.

“I know,” Sass replied from outside the curtain, a little more gently.

Luka managed to scrub the alcohol and bar smell off himself. 

“Brush your teeth,” Sass advised. “Her sense of smell will be very sensitive for the next few months.” 

Luka grunted an acknowledgement and did as instructed. He managed to pick up his dirty clothes without falling over and drop them into the hamper, making a mental note to do the laundry himself tomorrow. Sass phased back out into the living room, where he could still hear Adrien and Marinette talking, but the thought of getting dressed and going out there was just too much. He crawled into bed, too exhausted both physically and emotionally to do anything else, and wriggled under the covers. 

Eventually he heard the front door close, and Marinette came in, approaching tentatively. She sniffed the air as she got close, and then relaxed, coming to sit on the bed next to him. Luka rolled to his back and prepared to face the music. 

“You could have talked to me,” Marinette said, stroking her fingertips lightly across her forehead.

Luka sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m happy, I swear I am, just...it’s a lot.” 

Marinette nodded. “Believe me, I know.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll be a terrible dad. I had kind of a horrible example.” 

“True, but,” Marinette shrugged. “We’re a progressive family. We can both be moms if you want. You had a good enough example for that.”

Luka chuckled weakly, reaching up to caress her cheek with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled. “I hope she has your eyes.”

Marinette smiled. “Or he.”

Luka shook his head and immediately regretted it as the room spun. “Gonna be a girl. That’s my lot in life. Constantly surrounded by strong, beautiful women who can kick my ass.” 

Marinette giggled. “At least you have Adrien.”

“He’s so pretty he might as well be one of you,” Luka sighed. “C’mere?” He flopped an arm out, and Marinette sighed, and then laid down and scooted over until she could lay her head on his chest. He curled his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he said. “Sorry for being so stupid.”

“Yeah, well, if being surrounded by strong women is your lot in life, apparently being surrounded by stupid men is mine,” Marinette sighed. “You’re going to go to Adrien’s therapist?”

“Yeah,” Luka sighed, closing his eyes. “I guess I better.”

“Then it’s okay. You’re allowed this one.” She was silent for a moment. “Thanks for letting me know where you were. I would have been scared if you just hadn’t come home.”

“I would never do that to you,” Luka promised. “Never. I’m not going anywhere. I may be the worst dad in the history of dads but I can at least be better than mine. I can at least be here.” 

Marinette leaned up and kissed him, and he closed his eyes, savoring the familiar feel of her soft lips caressing his. “You’re not going to be anywhere near the worst dad in history. You have too much love in your heart to be anything less than mostly adequate.” 

Luka laughed. “Thanks, babe. You always know the right thing to say.” 

Marinette tucked the blankets around him. “I still have to go feed the kwamis and do a couple of other things. You sleep it off. Just remember, I have dibs on puking in the toilet in the morning. If you have to hurl, use the trash can.” 

“Yes’m,” Luka sighed, already drifting off. Marinette leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, stupid man.” 

“Love you too, strong woman. Women.” 

“It could still be a boy!”

“Keep telling yourself that, babe.”


	7. Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is sick and feels like death, but at least she won't die alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came from the first prompt in the new [ML Weekly Prompts](https://mlweeklyprompts.tumblr.com) on tumblr, a sister site of the Lovebugs and Snakecharmers group, except that this one is ship-neutral and ongoing with prompts are released every Friday. So if you're looking for inspiration check it out! The plan was to start the prompts in a month or so but with the quarantine going on, now seemed like the right time, so ML Weekly Prompts is kicking off early. This week's prompt is, appropriately, Quarantine, and I was craving some established relationship sweetness so this seemed like perfect timing.
> 
> Again, the prompts are ship-neutral...but we all know what I'm going to be doing, don't we.

Marinette moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open again, and she began to cough, which was maybe the only thing that kept her from crying. It felt like she’d been sick forever and she just wanted to _ sleep _, but sleep only came in fits, disrupted by the congestion and coughing. 

In addition the familiar tiny pats on her neck, a warm, familiar hand began rubbing circles on her back through her thin nightgown, which felt good even though it made the fabric stick to her sweaty skin, and when the fit passed, she blinked up, foggy with sleep and sickness. Luka was next to her in the bed, leaning back against the headboard, an open book across his thighs. “Hey,” he said softly. “Need some water?” 

Marinette nodded, and Luka’s big hands wrapped around her upper arms and helped her get upright. She had to cough again before she could accept the glass of water he offered her. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said scratchily as she gave the glass back. “You guys were supposed to leave me in here so I wouldn’t spread this to the family.” She felt Tikki leave her neck and saw the kwami flit out of the room. The little gods were good about giving them their private space.

“I’m exactly where I should be,” Luka told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently into him. Even knowing she shouldn’t, she turned toward him and snuggled into his familiar warmth with a small, pitiful noise. “I took Erika to your parents’. She’ll be okay there for a few days so I can focus on taking care of you.”

Marinette whined. “That’s so unfair to her, though.”

“It’s not as if she won’t see me at all,” he told her, “And I’m sure Adrien will be checking on her. In fact if he’s not camping out on their couch I’ll be shocked.” He stroked Marinette’s messy hair gently, and Marinette had just enough energy to feel guilty about how gross she was. “You’re allowed to need me too, babe. You are going to _ rest _ and let me take care of you so that you can get better. We both know you’d have been well by now if you were getting what you needed. Hopefully with a few of days of real rest, taking your meds on time, and eating as close to real food as I can make for you, you’ll be well enough that we can bring Erika back home.” 

“And what are we going to do when you get sick too?” she mumbled. He shouldn’t be here but it felt so _ good _ to be held, to rest against his firm chest. She always felt calmer when he held her. She rubbed her cheek against the soft knit of his t-shirt.

“I’m not nearly as worn out as you were when you caught this. I might not get it at all, and if I do, I’ll get over it quick enough. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m here and I’m staying,” Luka told her firmly. Marinette just sighed, too tired to fight him on it. “Let’s get you in a nice hot shower,” Luka suggested. “The steam will do you good and you’ll feel better clean.” He plucked at the fabric sticking to her back and she grimaced. 

Even so, the very idea of getting up made her feel so tired she wanted to weep. Marinette turned pitiful eyes up at him. Luka kissed her forehead. “I’ve got you, babe, just leave everything to me. I’ll get the shower started and come back for you.” 

When he returned, he helped Marinette out of the bed, and when she fell against him she realized she was leaning on bare skin. “Luka,” she groaned. “I can’t possibly…” 

“Marinette,” he retorted, amused. “I just thought you could use some help. Come on, you can kick me out if I’m annoying you but I’m not even sure you can stand on your own at this point.” 

Marinette grumbled something that was probably incoherent, but Luka just chuckled, helping her into the bathroom. She shoved him away long enough to let her nightgown slide to the floor but nearly fell when she tried to take off her underwear, her balance confused by the congestion in her sinuses. Luka caught her without comment, helped her get the rest of her clothes off, and held onto her while she stepped over the edge of the bathtub into the already-steaming shower. She shivered as the warm water hit her skin. Luka got in behind her and put his arms around Marinette and leaned her back against his chest. “Just enjoy the water and relax,” he told her, reaching for the body wash. 

Marinette closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his shoulder, enjoying his tender care even if it lacked the charge she might have felt if she were less sick. There was no seduction in Luka’s touch today, only love and concern, as he cleaned her body, washing away all the sweat and sickness, and she had to admit she was glad both for his help and his touch. He lingered a moment over the scar stretched between her hips, thinking, she didn’t doubt, of the difficult day that brought Erika into the world. When she was clean, he coaxed her to turn and get her head under the water and then she leaned against him with her cheek on his chest as he washed her hair, strong fingers massaging her scalp. Marinette sighed—which she could actually do without coughing in the small steamy space. She almost didn’t want it to end, and Luka, tuned into her as always, took his time about it.

“Stay here and relax,” he told her when she was clean. “I’ll be right back. Call me or sit down if you start to feel weak or dizzy.” 

Marinette made a wordless noise of agreement and turned to face the shower, bracing her hands on the tile and letting the warm water run over her face, soothing skin scrubbed raw from tissue after tissue.

Luka slipped out of the shower, dried himself, and quickly threw on sweatpants and a t-shirt. He went to the kitchen quickly and started the electric kettle, and then went back to the bathroom, armed with Marinette’s favorite fluffy pink robe and a clean towel. “Ready to get out?” he called.

“Yes,” Marinette replied, and coughed. She reached forward and turned off the water, and Luka slid the curtain back and threw the towel around her. He held her while she stepped out, feeling weak and wobbly. She stood shivering while Luka dried her off quickly and held the robe open for her. It was softy and comfy and it felt really good as he slid it up over her shoulders and tied it for her. He guided her to sit at the vanity and towelled off her hair a little more vigorously, so that it was no longer dripping, before draping the towel around her shoulders and brushing it for her. 

“You don’t have to carry me,” she protested when he lifted her, but Luka ignored her, carrying her out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the living room, setting her down in the plush rocking recliner by the window.

“You sit here and enjoy the sun for a minute while I get the bedroom cleaned up.” In the kitchen he found that Sass and Tikki were ahead of him, Tikki just stirring honey into a cup of ginger lemon tea.

“Thanks,” he smiled at the two kamis, and took it out to Marinette, who accepted it gratefully, looking a little less heartbreakingly sick and exhausted. Luka felt a pleased little flutter, happy he had helped her at least a little. 

In the bedroom, he pulled off the mussed sheets and pillowcases and changed them for crisp fresh ones. He emptied the bin, nearly overflowing with tissues. It felt good to be doing something. Luka had hated watching Marinette suffer for the past week, expecting every day for her to get better and watching this common, ordinary sickness linger like it never would have before. They had been through a lot in the last year, and while Marinette was nearly up to full speed on a good day, there were moments like this that reminded him that she was still recovering. Growing an entire human being was tough, after all, especially one as amazing as their little girl, and then months of interrupted sleep and emotional highs and lows—it was no wonder she wasn’t quite strong enough to fight this off. Parenthood took its toll on him, too, of course, but there were so many things only Marinette could do, and she was so used to being a superwoman that it was hard sometimes to know when she needed help. Luka tried not to berate himself for not being more proactive about helping her get over this. They were both doing the best they could.

Luka tidied the bedroom a little more, trying to think of anything he could do that would make Marinette more comfortable. He moved the picture of Erika from his nightstand to Marinette’s so she could look at it while she rested, and made sure the TV remote was there too. “Can you think of anything else she might like?” he asked Tikki, who had floated in to supervise his efforts. Normally the kwami’s stayed out of the bedroom, but all bets were off when everyone was worried about Marinette. 

“It would be good if we could get some fresh flowers in here,” Tikki said thoughtfully. “That might lift her spirit. It was a good idea to let her sit in the sun for a bit, even if she can’t go outside. 

“Right,” Luka said, grabbing his phone and sending a quick text to Rose. “Good idea Tikki. Do you think it would make things too cold if I open the window for a bit?”

“I think the fresh air would be worth it,” Tikki chirped, brightening at the prospect. “As long as we close it before Marinette comes back in so there’s not a draft it should be fine.”

Luka crossed over and opened the window, letting in the spring air. 

He had to smile a little bit when he came back out into the living room. Marinette was still sitting there with her teacup in her lap, but she was relaxed back into the cushions, her head tilted back, still coughing periodically but at least appearing to enjoy the sunshine on her face. Luka went to her and crouched beside the chair, smoothing her still-damp hair back from her face, while Tikki landed on her knee. “Do you want to stay out here, or go back to bed?” 

Marinette hmmed thoughtfully, ending in a weak cough. “I think I’d like to stay here until I finish my tea, and then maybe try for another nap.”

“If I make you some toast, will you eat?” 

Marinette sighed and Tikki patted her hand. “I’ll try.” 

Luka kissed her forehead and went back to the kitchen. Marinette watched him go, smiling. She still felt like death, but at least she no longer felt like she’d been abandoned to die alone. 

“Luka,” she said after a moment.

“Hmm?” 

“Thanks for bringing me out of the dark.” 

Luka smiled, setting a plate of toast and a couple of tablets for her fever on the table next to her, and then he knelt beside her and took her hand. “Always, Marinette.”


End file.
